No Sex before Sobriety
by Rythica
Summary: Maybe telling the G's the truth about the twins' relationship was a mistake. Maybe the fight was bad luck. Maybe Tokio Hotel should think more carefully about letting the fate of their career fall onto Gustav's shoulders.


**Author's notes:** My first completed fanfiction ever! It's kind-of short and not that good because I was writing this at about 1AM, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! (= This was inspired by the video: Tokio Hotel Band Superlatives. Search it on YouTube- it's adorable!

No Sex before Sobriety

The first people that the twins told were their fellow band members, Georg and Gustav. The news wasn't tragic- to most people. It wasn't what either boy with a G name had been expecting when the guitarist and singer called them into Tom's hotel room for an emergency band meeting one night after a show.

Gustav hadn't received an answer about his preference for a super-cool drum riser. Georg hadn't even gotten the chance to ask Bill to borrow a hairbrush because his had mysteriously disappeared. No, instead they'd both gotten a long, probably well-planned explanation of how the identical brothers were both hopelessly in love, and always have been.

With each other.

Georg's face turned a worrying shade of green. Gustav's face showed a strange mix of emotions- which was also worrying because Gustav never showed emotions. Neither of the elder boys were able to say much after that. Only take in Bill's broken-hearted face, growingly worse with every awkward, silent moment that passed, and barely managing to nod in recognition when Tom quipped about seeing them for sound-check tomorrow morning as they silently got up and left the room. Yes, Gustav remembered those moments just as if they had happened five minutes ago.

And that was probably because they _did_ happen five minutes ago.

How did they expect them to react? Had they wanted everyone to be all jolly and throw hugs around and pat each other on the back? It's true that the twins had always been closer than normal siblings should be, but when the Kaultiz's looked the reporters straight in the eye and told them that their touchy-feely relationship was only strong brotherly love, Gustav had chosen to believe them. Trust your friends, right? Guess not.

He had chosen to decline Georg's request, made in the hallway, to go back to the bassist's room and talk about it. Gustav wasn't much of a talker. But neither was Georg- he was probably just wondering if Gustav felt as weird as he did. This was why the band had the twins; they were the blabby ones. So here lay Gustav, on his king-sized bed for one, only trying to forget the whole thing and maintain a clear head.

But of course things just don't work out that way- not the way Gustav had been living since he'd become part of the crazy Tokio Hotel.

The twins were fighting again. He could hear them- his hotel room only being across the hall. And he had a feeling that he would know what this fight was about even if he couldn't hear their screaming… and the sounds of furniture skidding across the walls.

"_You're_ the one who wanted to tell them, Bill! Remember that tiny little detail?"

"They're our band members! They have a right _to know!_"

"Why should it matter to them who we slide into? I don't go around demanding a fucking list of groupies from Georg's wild nights out!"

"This isn't about screwing girls this time, Tom. It's about _us as a band_. Wouldn't _you_ want to know if Georg and Gustav were fucking each other?"

"I sure as hell _would not!_ I don't even know why I agreed to tell them! You got into my fucking _head_ somehow. None of this would have happened if it weren't for your stupid crap mind games."

"Oh _yeah_, it's all my fault like always. When I'm the _mature one_ trying to keep a good, civilized relationship going with our friends and you're just _blowing it all_ out of proportion!"

"_Civilized?_ Bill, you're my brother! We had sex! And you think I'm making too big a deal of it? It _is_ a big deal! We probably just lost half of our _fucking band_ because _you_ couldn't think with your head instead of your dick for once!"

"You know what? Fuck you! I hope Georg sleepwalks into your room during the middle of the night and pukes in your disgusting mouth. Oh wait, you'd probably like that, you sick fucking bastard," and an angry Bill slams the door, storming off down the hall to who knows where at this time of night.

"Love you too, _little bro!_" Tom quips back sarcastically, voice muffled by the tall hotel walls.

Gustav was just wondering how to reaccept Georg's invitation, when seconds after the quiet is restored he falls asleep.

The drummer is woken up sharply by the sound of his own door clicking closed, followed by loud, stumbling footsteps. His childhood had trained him to be a light sleeper.

"Who's there?" He fumbles to turn on the bedside lamp and is met with the sight of a hazy-eyed Bill crouching over him on the bed.

"G'morning… sleepyhead," his giggle is interrupted by a hiccup. 'Plastered,' thinks Gus.

"Good night," he turns the light off again and shuts his eyes, as if that would make him simply disappear.

There is a rustling sound as Bill gets more comfortable under the sheets.

"Go back to bed, Bill."

"You silly… I'm al… ready in bed."

"To your bed."

"But I want to be… with you," a lanky arm drapes over Gus' stomach.

He pushes it off firmly. "You don't."

"But I… dooooo," Bill draws out the last word and plops half of his body onto Gustav.

'Why would you want to be with me?' he thought, too shocked by the extreme display of affection to find words.

"I love you, Wolfgang. You're my best… friend," thin arms wrap around a stout body and squeeze.

'We are not best friends. What reason would you have to love me?' But of course Gustav could never say these things to him out loud.

"You're so nice to me," Bill nuzzles his neck. "You never say bad… things about me…. And always give me… compliments," he plants little kisses up his jaw, not noticing Gustav's cringe away. "And you never… interrupt me when I'm… talking."

'You're lieing to yourself. You don't know what you're doing. If you were sober, you won't give a rat's ass about me,' the drummer sulked internally, trying to think of something appropriate to say to Bill without being a complete jerk.

"I've always noticed… you, even if it hasn't seemed… like I did…. Tom always wanted… my attention, but he's a dick, so… now I'm… all yours," the eccentric boy swung his leg over Gus' other side.

'All mine? What the hell is that supposed to mean?' he thought just as Bill forced his lips on him. Forgetting manners in a state of shock, Gustav pushed the singer's shoulders back. It left his lips tingling.

"No, Bill," he warned.

"Yes, Gustie…" Bill flailed at his hands and tried to shove his tongue between Gustav's lips.

"You don't want this," he held strong and kept the wriggling boy at bay, though he wasn't sure how long he could keep fighting the little varmint.

"I want youuuu…. Didn't you listen to… anything I just… said?"

"You're drunk."

"M'not dru-" his sentence was interrupted by a burp, followed by a giggle. "Drunk."

Gustav was beginning to doubt his tactics. This was possibly because all of his blood was flowing into his southern regions, but he was considering the pros and cons of letting this play out.

**Pros:** Sex with Bill (enough said)

**Cons:** Lose Georg's trust, break up the band even more, have Bill hate you (because, as always, you know he loves Tom), get beaten up by Tom (because, as always, you know he loves Bill)

The drummer sighed when he felt their lead singer's soft lips prying his own open again. They were so sweet; begging him. But he knew it wasn't right. 'Nobility sucks,' he broods, allowing himself one final moment of Bill-flavoured heaven.

It took every single gram of whatever control that he had to stop responding to his friend's dirty tactics, every ounce of strength to push the horny drunk off of him, and every atom of willpower to _not _throw the shit against the fan and just fuck him like he so obviously needed to be fucked. It would serve him right for being so careless.

But he didn't. It wouldn't help any cause right now.

He swung the boy over his shoulder, waddled out into the dimly lit hall and all but knocked Bill's door down with a kick. He shoved the little whore under the covers, and turned off all of the lights. He held the vocalist's hands behind his back and resisted struggles until, what seemed like days later, Bill was asleep.

Gustav took one last feel of the soft skin on the boy's neck before dashing back into his own bed to touch himself with more roughness than ever before.

He knew this was just another night that none of them would ever speak of again.


End file.
